


little bird

by ChancellorGriffin



Series: ANYTHING GOES: Custom Fic Prompts for All & Sundry [3]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Bisexual Raven Reyes, F/F, F/M, Multi, Pre-Season/Series 05, Spacekru Orgies Are Canon, Threesome - F/F/M, Zero-gravity sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-17
Updated: 2018-06-17
Packaged: 2019-05-24 08:14:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14950967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChancellorGriffin/pseuds/ChancellorGriffin
Summary: Harper always falls a little bit in love with anyone who shows her something new.





	little bird

**Author's Note:**

> for Brandon, the fandom's #1 Harper stan :-)

Mount Weather changed her, in ways she is still discovering.

The trauma of having her physical agency taken away - the nightmares of drills and hospital beds and screaming - rearrange things inside of her, like a hurricane sweeping through a campsite.  Thinking you've left your tent by the fire pit and discovering it hanging upside-down from a tree.  Nothing's where you left it.  Nothing's where it should be. 

(Not her analogy.  Echo's.  No one's sure how Echo became everyone's therapist, or how the fuck she's so good at it, but the tent thing makes perfect sense to Harper when Echo explains it.)

And it's completely reasonable, Echo tells her, that she'd find herself naturally drawn to anyone who gives her her power back.  Gives her her _body_ back.  Like restoring something that was taken away.

It was Monty, first.  Because he was soft to her without being infantilizing, because he understood that she was injured but not made of glass (something Bellamy, triggered into protector mode by the thought of another little sister in trouble, had not quite understood).  It made sense that it was Monty.  That Monty had been the first.  Monty who always looked right at her when she was speaking, right in her eyes - not up and down her body, like Jasper sometimes did, or over her shoulder as if she wasn't there, like Octavia.  Monty who watched without ever appearing to be watching, and noticed things about her even she hadn't realized, like the way she flinched at sudden movements and loud noises.  Monty was gentle but not weak, kind but not patronizing, and he _saw_ her when nobody else did.

Monty was the first, and Monty was the one that stuck, the one that turned from gratitude to love.  But he wasn't the last.

It had been Monroe, next.  Her sparring partner in Camp Jaha.  Bellamy and Lincoln paired them for practice exercises because they were fairly evenly matched by height.  Harper was a little better with a rifle but Monroe ran circles around her in hand-to-hand, laying Harper out flat on her back every time.  It hurt like a motherfucker, even with mats, but it felt good. It felt like a high.  Harper couldn't get enough.  Because Monroe didn't tiptoe, Monroe didn't hold back, Monroe never pulled punches.  When she went in, she went in.  And God, it felt good to be treated like a fighter instead of a victim.  Monroe hadn't been inside so she didn't really know.  She just knew Harper was injured, and recovering.  So she wasn't a dick about it, she fought fair, but she never gave Harper an advantage she didn't earn.  No pity.  It was intoxicating.  Harper didn't even mind the bruises, no matter how many times Abby sighed and raised her eyebrow when she saw the girl limping. Sparring with Monroe, she felt like a fighter again, and every time she won a bout she knew that victory was real.  It was impossible not to love Monroe for that.

It had been Kane after Monroe, rather unexpectedly; Kane pulling her into an abandoned storeroom in the middle of her guard shift to take one of the biggest gambles of his life and ask for her help to spy on Pike.  She could have said no.  Could have turned him in.  But she'd been pissed at Pike too, and even more so at Hannah, for what she'd begun to see Monty turning into.  Kane, too, had seen her when nobody else did, had seen the ambivalence on her face when Pike gave orders, seen the worry in her eyes when she looked at Bellamy, seen her wondering if she'd picked the wrong side.  And so he'd come to her, and given her a choice, and she chose him.  Chose peace.  Chose the hope that Monty and Bellamy would see the light, even while she resented them for forcing her to choose in the first place. 

Kane could have gone to Octavia first, or Miller first, but he hadn't.  Out of all the guards at Camp Jaha, he'd picked Harper as the one he believed he could trust.  She'd recruited the others herself, but she'd been the one he had faith in.  No one in all her life had asked so much of her, or needed her so badly.  After that, she'd fallen a little in love with him too.

And then Praimfaya had loomed over them all, and she'd lost herself, the nightmares about the drill and the screaming had come back, and she'd been so tired, and Jasper had offered her a way out - not taking back her power, but laying it down completely, something she'd never once considered in all her life, but which suddenly seemed like the only safe choice, for someone so tired of fighting.  But then Jasper had really done it, Jasper made it real, and it scared the shit out of her, suddenly there were dead bodies all around her and a cup in her hand and she didn't want any of it, she felt the dark water closing over her head and swam upward towards the light as hard as she could, and found Monty there, waiting, reminding her who she was, and that was the moment the thing between them shifted from a light thing made of sex and sweetness into a love sturdy enough to hold onto.

And then on the Ark it had been Echo, perhaps the only person more improbable than Kane.  Bellamy had taught Harper to fire a gun, and Lincoln had taught her to box, and Monroe had taught her how to sweep out an opponent's leg and lay them flat on their back, but she'd never held a sword in her life, and the feeling of it makes her _giddy._ Echo is a demanding teacher, ruthless as Monroe ever was, and the last of the shadows on Harper's soul that were left by those bleak last days at Arkadia finally fall away, replaced with scars and sword calluses and limber thigh muscles from daily training.  It's hardly a surprise that her heart opens up to make room for Echo, too. 

And now, suddenly, there's someone else.

It's been three years.  She has everything she needs.  She has Monty, she has a family, she has enough work to keep her busy every day. She's whole.  She's safe.  All the scars are healed.  She can hold her own in a swordfight against Bellamy and even against Echo, she has a near-encyclopedic knowledge of Go-Sci's water filtration systems, and the only thing she has to worry about is what shitty thing Murphy will say to Emori tonight at dinner. 

But Raven has something else Harper wants, and only Raven can give it to her.

Harper's father called her "little bird." This is the only thing she remembers of him.

Harper wants to fly.

* * * * *

 She isn't really _jealous_ of Emori.  That isn't quite the word for it.  Emori, after all, has an ease and a comfort with technology that rivals only Raven's, and given the choice, Harper would still rather work with Monty all day.  Especially at the beginning, when his hands were healing, when he needed her most.  And it gives her real joy to watch Emori's rigid, angry shell crumble bit by bit as she finally begins to accept that her place here is real, not conditional. 

But still.

The first day Emori gets to spacewalk with Raven, she arrives at dinner flushed and breathless, hair still a tangled mess from the helmet, giddy like a child and incandescent with joy.  It lasts all of five minutes until Murphy finds a way to ruin it, but it's there nonetheless.  Harper's happy for her, but there's a hint of wistfulness to her joy.  It seems like such an extraordinary thing.  A gift given to Raven and Emori, and even to Monty, but not to anyone else.

She asks Monty about it, over and over, as they lie in bed, and he's game as he can be, he describes it in detail, as many times as she likes; but he doesn't have the same sense of wonder and awe towards it that Emori does, or the sense of freedom - of restoration to an earlier version of herself she's missed - that it gives to Raven.  For Monty, it's just the necessary first step to repair exterior damage.  Step 1, put on suit, step 2, spacewalk, step 3, fix whatever's broken, step 4, come back inside.

"That's a pretty unromantic view of things," she'd complained, which made him laugh.  "Where's your sense of poetry?"

"I can do it over again in rhyme if you want to."

"Oh, shut up."

He teases her about it a little, after that ("I'm on duty with Raven this afternoon, to patch some exterior hull damage.  Should take about four hours.  That's including extra time to sit there in silent contemplation of the eternal wonder of the cosmos"), so she stops asking, and soon she believes he's forgotten all about it except as an occasional excuse for gentle jokes.

But she really should have known him better than that.

* * * * *

 The night that Harper falls a little in love with Raven starts out like a perfectly ordinary one.

Everything's normal, at first.  Murphy doesn't come to dinner, Bellamy is a little too pushy about how the engine repairs are coming so Emori kicks him under the table before he upsets Raven again, and everyone chokes down their algae with grim resignation.  Just another day.  One more X on the calendar, ticking down towards homecoming. 

Except that Raven disappears immediately after dinner and doesn't say why or where, and when Harper follows Monty back to their quarters he's got a flask of his new, experimental moonshine waiting for her (terrible aftertaste but it gets the job done), and a twinkle of mischief in his eyes that says he has a surprise.

"Come on," he says, tugging her hand and leading her down an unfamiliar hallway, away from the mess hall and the common room and their sleeping quarters, towards the section of Go-Sci that mostly remains deserted.

"Where are we going?"

"You'll see when we get there."

"Monty!"

"You'll like it," he grins over his shoulder.  "I promise."

And she trusts him, she's ready to like whatever it is, but all she sees when they get there is a big empty room, bare and cold and blank.  It's dim with a kind of low blue-green glow; only about half the lights still work.  Used to be storage, she vaguely remembers from childhood.  A hangar for docking ships before that.  Huge, but useless, nothing to see except the far wall which is all glass, revealing a dazzling blanket of stars.

"Monty," she chides him, hands on hips.  "If you just wanted to do it somewhere besides our bed, there are a lot more comfortable - _what the hell!"_

She cuts herself off mid-sentence, blind to Monty's delighted grin, as her entire body _slowly rises off the ground._

"Transport shuttles used to come in and out through here," says a voice in the darkness, and Harper, wildly flailing for balance until Monty takes her hand, turns to see Raven hovering near a metal wall panel, fiddling with dials.  "Only room left on Go-Sci with working anti-grav.  We use it for training.  Monty says you want to learn to spacewalk."

* * * * *

At first, she hates it.

It feels like drowning, like the more she flails around to catch her balance the more she loses control.  And it doesn't help to see Monty and Raven doubled over, cackling.

There's a ladder built into the wall near the exit, and they stay near that for awhile, so she has something to hold onto; but it's disorienting as hell to feel her legs drift out away from her as her hands grip the cold metal rail, leaving her floating horizontally in place, like a hooked fish.

Why the hell do they all like this so much?

Monty, moonshine in hand, is already buzzed and showing off a little; he has a neat trick they've clearly practiced in here a hundred times, where he tips the moonshine bottle over to pour it out, but instead of a steady flow of liquid, the clear liquor hangs suspended in the air, a bulging, wobbling little sphere, which Raven zooms up and catches with her mouth, making them both laugh.  If she wasn't clinging to a metal ladder and struggling to get her bearings, it might be kind of cool, but right now she feels woozy and weird. 

"You're totally safe," Monty says, drifting over towards her and reaching for her hand.  But she shakes her head, not ready to let go yet.  "It's okay, Harper.  Don't fight it."

She doesn't want to. She wants to let go.  But she doesn't know how her body works anymore, how to move through space, how to make her muscles work.  It's like being a child again, learning to walk for the first time.  And for a duo who already trained Emori, the two of them are remarkably unsympathetic teachers; though in fairness, they probably weren't drunk then.

It's anticlimactic and depressing and she feels a little hollow, like a dream's been deflated.  This is all it is? Just holding onto a ladder and staring at a metal wall while exerting every muscle in your body to keep from losing your balance?

"I don't think she's having fun," Monty remarks to Raven, as she floats casually past him to pluck the moonshine from his hand and takes a long swig. 

"We gotta get her off the ladder," says Raven. 

"You do it.  You're a better teacher."

"Emori was an easier student."

"Come on.  Do the thing."

"The zoom thing?"

"Yeah. Emori liked the zoom thing."

"Okay," says Raven, setting the moonshine bottle down and letting it float happily in the air before propelling herself over to the ladder.  "Come here," she says, pulling Harper into her arms.  "Let go for a second."

Harper hesitates.

"Come here," Raven says again, pulling her into something that almost feels like an embrace.  "It's okay.  I got you."

Raven's arms are slender and powerful, and she smells like moonshine and soap, and she's holding Harper so close that Harper can feel the swell of the other girl's breasts brush lightly against hers, a sensation she's never experienced before that sends shivers down her spine.  Maybe that's what finally does it, that strange, sizzling, delicious little shiver, which finally loosens her hands from their white-knuckle grip on the ladder.

"Ready?" asks Raven, but she doesn't wait for the "not really" that's forming on Harper's lips before she kicks off from the wall with all the might of her good leg, so the two of them go soaring.

Weightless. Free. Sailing across the room until they drift to a halt in front of the window, and Harper finds herself floating among the stars for the very first time in her life.

* * * * *

After that, they can't keep her in one place.  She doesn't need Raven to hold her hand anymore, she figures out the physics of it all fairly quickly.  How to ricochet from floor to wall, how to swim forward and backward with her strong, powerful arms to propel her from place to place.  When she manages to do her first somersault, a now-tipsy Raven whoops and applauds.

"Your girl's a natural," she says to Monty, grinning, but Monty's not listening.  He's swimming through the air towards Harper, meeting her by the window in front of the stars.  Raven, moonshine in hand, trails behind.  The party has officially moved away from the back corner by the ladder, now that Harper can't get enough of the view.

When Monty kisses Harper, it's largely because he's drunk.  He'd be more self-conscious about Raven's presence, otherwise.  But when he pulls away to catch his breath and Harper, smiling, pulls Raven close and presses a kiss against her mouth next, she isn't drunk at all.  It's just the way her heart works.  There was a moment when she would have kissed Monroe the same way.  And Kane, even.  And Echo.  Soft and open and delighted.  Joy bubbling over.  Grateful for a gift given.  For the way Monroe made her feel strong and Kane made her feel needed and Echo made her feel powerful.  She kisses Monty like this all the time, and it isn't even always about sex.  Just a way to say things that are harder to put into words. 

But something different happens with Raven, something that Harper doesn't expect.

Raven kisses her back.

But like, really kisses her.

Kisses her in a way that makes it clear to Harper that Raven definitely likes girls, and definitely _definitely_ likes Harper, both of which are pieces of brand-new information.

Raven's mouth is hot and fierce and her hands come up to Harper's shoulders, gripping her tightly to keep from drifting away, as shivers of delight sizzle all over Harper's body.  She doesn't want to pull away, doesn't want to end this, but she needs to check on Monty, she can't see him, he's drifted behind her, and she needs to know if he's okay with this, or if Raven's done something wrong.

Then she feels a pair of hands, gentle and firm, on her ankles. She pulls away and looks down.

Monty's gently unlacing her boots.

She looks down at him.  He looks up at her.

"I just assumed," he says, a little dryly.  "And I didn't want to interrupt."

"Do mine too," Raven orders, kicking him a little in the shoulder with her good leg.

"Lazy."

"Your face is right in the path of my boots, Green, watch your mouth."

"What's happening right now?" Harper demands, looking from one to the other, eyes wide with confusion, and the fear that if she says the thing she wants out loud, a delicate bubble will burst and the whole thing will vanish.

"At the moment," says Raven, "what's happening is your boyfriend is undressing us so we can make out.  Unless that's not cool.  In which case it can just be flying lessons."

"How drunk are you?"

"Drunk enough that I finally got up the nerve to tell Monty I had a dream about this the other night," says Raven frankly, "but not so drunk that you should worry you're taking advantage of me."

Monty floats up to them, Harper's boots in hand, and tosses them casually away, where they float off in different directions.

"Getting dressed again is gonna be such a bitch," Raven sighs, tugging her shirt off over her head and letting it drift off in the direction of Harper's left boot as Monty unsnaps her leg brace.

"We knew that going in," Monty reminds her.

"I know, I just forgot.  I never got to do this before, remember?  I hadn't reached that part of my training before . . ."

She trails off.

 _Before Finn got locked up,_ they all think but don't say, and Harper desperately wants to push away the flicker of sadness that appears suddenly in Raven's eyes, so she tugs her own shirt off over her head, whips it around a few times, and lets it fly. 

"Nice aim," Raven laughs as the shirt catches on Raven's leg brace and propels them both even further away.  Monty's got Raven's boots off now, and is starting on his own, and the sight of clothes and shoes floating wildly all about them is so surreal and absurd that Harper feels giddy laughter bubbling up inside her like water from a spring.  She can't get undressed fast enough.  Her bra is too light to go far, even though she wads it up and tosses it over her shoulder with all her might, and her socks and underwear just drift, but there's enough heft to her jeans to send them a good twenty feet away before they begin to lose momentum.  Raven watches her with open, frank admiration before following suit, and soon they're both naked, bathed in starlight, floating in space.

"You're really beautiful," says Harper honestly, looking at Raven's bared golden skin, her coppery-brown nipples, the dark thatch of hair between her thighs.  And she really is.  Raven's always been beautiful, everyone's always thought so, and Harper's not blind, but before she was beautiful in a distant kind of "isn't my friend pretty" kind of way, instead of this new way where she's suddenly Harper's to touch and kiss and hold.

But Harper can't see what Monty and Raven can see, she's not looking at herself, she's not looking at the way the starlight glittering through the window makes her pale skin glow like it's lit from within, or the way her delicate peaked nipples are the exact same shade of rose as her lips, or the way every movement in the air near her body sends her hair fluttering around her shoulders like a mermaid underwater. Raven is fiery, but Harper is luminous.

"You're like the sun and the moon," Monty says to them, a little dizzily, as he tugs his jeans down over his shorts.  "Harper thinks I don't have a poetic soul, by the way, but I think she's wrong."

"That's sweet," says Raven happily, "you're sweet," and before Harper realizes what's happened Raven's taken him by the arm and she's kissing him too.

 _Oh,_ thinks Harper, warmth suddenly pulsing between her thighs.

So they're really doing this, then.

* * * * *

It takes very little time for Harper to intercept the silent communications taking place between Raven and Monty and realize that this part, like the flying, is a gift for her.  Their attentive focus on her pleasure never flags for a moment.  When they begin in earnest, all three naked and floating together in front of the stars, Monty wraps his arms around Harper's waist from behind and presses soft kisses against the back of her neck, the spot that makes her go all weak-kneed and shivery every time.  One of his hands presses hard against her smooth, flat stomach, holding her in place, anchoring her, as the other drifts downward and his fingers begin lightly, gently playing with the downy golden hair between her things.  Harper closes her eyes, drowsy with pleasure, a small humming sigh escaping her lips, but it's cut off by a sharp little gasp a moment later as she feels Raven's lips wrap around her left nipple.

Every time one of them moves, they all move, so they drift through the air like that, arms wrapped around each other, Harper at the center.  It's so strange to be motionless and moving at the same time, Harper doesn't think she'll ever get used to it.  They're weightless as feathers, knocked off-kilter by the faintest whisper of movement, so Raven's gentle kick to keep them from bumping into the wall tilts them to a new angle, and suddenly Harper's on her back, Monty floating below her.

She closes her eyes, and lets the sensations sweep her away. 

Hands all over her body, Raven's joining Monty's.  One mouth on her shoulder, one at her breast.  Warm breath.  Two pounding heartbeats.  Flickering starlight pouring in through her closed eyelids, glowing so warmly she imagines she can feel it.  She had half the moonshine Monty did, but she feels even more drunk than he is.  Intoxicated by this feeling of floating, of being utterly safe and utterly free at the same time.  Both anchored, and flying. 

Monty is her roots.  Raven is her wings.

She has everything she's ever needed.

* * * * *

 When a finger crooks up inside her, she can't immediately tell whose it is, which makes her feel wicked and delicious.  There are two hands moving between her thighs now, one softly carding through the damp golden hair of her cunt as the other softly nudges her folds open, traces a gentle circle over her clit, and finds its way to her entrance.  By the time it's inside her, up to the first knuckle, she realizes with a start that it's Raven.

She doesn't open her eyes, afraid to break the spell, just lets herself melt backward into Monty's arms as Raven's body sinks down softly against her own, nipples brushing over her skin, and a sweet, insistent mouth finds hers again as Raven's finger works her open.  She can feel Monty's cock against the back of her hip, half-hard already, as his other hand slides up to stroke her breast.

Monty had been shy and a little clueless when she first took him in hand, back at Arkadia three years ago.  Inexperienced and intimidated by Harper's calm, confident insistence that she knew exactly what she wanted, and that what she wanted was him.  He'd needed a lot of coaching.  Not so much at the actual fucking, he acquitted himself pretty well right off the bat in that arena, but he could never really let himself go.  Afraid of making a mistake, of overstepping, of touching her in a way she didn't want to be touched.  It's taken them a long time to get to this point, where he knows her body so well that his hands can drift all over her skin and find exactly the place she wants to be touched, without having to ask or be told.  He listens to his body now.  Trusts his instincts.  And he's more assertive, less nervous about just taking what he wants.  Which is a very good trait in moments like this, because all Harper wants is just to lie here against his chest and let them do things to her without having to do any of the work, and Monty's already on it because Monty can read her mind.

He traces circles around her aureola with a light, deft touch, and the pink flesh pebbles beneath his fingertips.  She exhales a long, ragged gasp, and wants to ask him for more, but suddenly she can't breathe, suddenly her body is rising weightless through the air as Raven's hands slide around her thighs to cup her ass and lift Harper's warm cunt effortlessly up to meet her mouth.

"Fuck," Harper whispers, back arching, and the abrupt movement propels them through the air again, drifting back towards the window.  But she can't help it. Raven's good at this, really good, fingers clutching hard at the soft flesh of Harper's smooth, perfect ass to hold her steady as she nuzzles in deep, wild and messy and shocking.  Harper feels her thighs clamp reflexively around Raven's shoulders and lets her hands drift down to clutch at the girl's hair to guide her.  Not that Raven needs it.  She nudges Harper's labia apart with her nose and licks a wide flat stripe up from Harper's center to the hard little bud of her clit, and Harper cries out so loudly she's afraid the sound will ricochet off the walls and carry back to the mess hall, where they'd left Bellamy reading.  Raven's lips wrap around her cunt and suck lightly, and Harper comes with a sharp gasp, heat sweeping through her body as Monty kisses her hair, his other hand sliding up so he can palm both of her breasts.  His legs hook around hers to keep his body from drifting downwards, and she can feel how hard he is, how hard his heart is beating, how rapid and shallow his breath has become, and suddenly mouths and fingers aren't enough, she needs to be filled, she needs him inside her.

Raven reads her mind, and reaches down to grasp Monty's cock in her hand, causing him to inhale sharply with a combination of both pure physical pleasure and the astonishment of being touched like this by Raven.  But he doesn't have long to process it before she's maneuvered them all into place and guided Monty into Harper's soft, wet cunt from behind.

Harper has been wondering about the physics of this, about how on earth two people can possibly fuck in zero-G without sending each other flying through space.  How does it work, without every thrust of his body pushing hers away?  But Raven has already solved this problem for them.  She provides the necessary resistance.  As Monty's hips lift, pushing his cock up hard into Harper's cunt, Raven pushes back.  They move together, in perfect sync, Raven's cunt and Monty's cock fucking her together.

She closes her eyes again, drifts through the air, swimming in pleasure.  Raven's mouth on her mouth, Monty's below her ear, murmuring soft unintelligible sounds of desire.  Four arms wrapped around her body, six legs tangled together.  Monty's quiet, earnest moans as he slides in and out, Raven's hoarse staccato gasping.  She's getting herself off as much as she's assisting the others, Harper can feel Raven's wetness against her own. 

"He can't come inside you," Raven murmurs unexpectedly, something like dry amusement in her voice.  "It won't . . . _stay_ inside you."

Harper blushes, thinking of the moonshine.  She's forgotten that gravity affects other things too.

"Can you not . . . ruin . . . the mood?" Monty pants, breath warm in Harper's ear, irritation flickering through the raw desire.

"I'm not," Raven protests.  "Don't worry, I had another plan."  Then she cups Harper's face in her hands and whispers something Monty can't hear, which makes Harper's eyes sparkle with mischief and desire.  Then, before he knows it, Raven has pulled Harper off his cock, back into the air, and kicked her legs downward until she's in something like a standing position, hands braced flat against Monty's still horizontal body.  Harper joins him on the other side.

Monty doesn't figure out that they're going down on him together until they're actually doing it, and his whole body contorts in stunned pleasure as he feels both mouths descend in unison.  They've found a perfect position which would literally only be possible in zero gravity; Monty's on his back, with both Harper and Raven floating upright, legs kicking gently in place below him to keep them vertical and upright, hands braced on him for balance.  Harper, on his left side, plants one palm on his stomach and one on his knee and opens her mouth wide enough to swallow his cock about halfway, chin resting against his thigh.  Raven, between his spread legs, grips both his thighs for balance and lets her tongue run lazily over the swell of his smooth, aching balls, taking them lightly into her mouth one after the other as Harper sucks. 

This would never work in a bed, she thinks.  _So_ much easier in three dimensions.

She feels his thighs begin to tremble a little as his orgasm starts to swell up within him, so when he comes, she's ready, lips wrapping tightly around his shaft to keep every last drop from escaping.  Raven picks up steam to join her, lips and tongue everywhere, sweeping over the base of his shaft and kneading his balls in her gentle fingers as Harper gently drains him dry before pulling away, swallowing the last drops in her mouth, and kissing him happily.

"That was," Monty begins, but trails off into a drowsy mumble, unable to articulate anything further.  Harper laughs, kissing him again.

"Don't thank me," she teases, "this whole thing was your idea."

"Actually it was mine," says Raven, pulling Harper close, reminding her with the closeness of her body that she hasn't come yet, and while Harper has already come once, she's ready for another. 

"Raven," Monty says in a low voice, "take care of her."

Raven nods, taking Harper's waist in both hands, pulling her close, and slots the powerful, slim thigh of her bad leg between Harper's, as the good leg wraps around, pressing both their cunts together.  Harper's heard of this, but never tried it, this kind of fucking that's just friction, and she bites her lip as Raven moves in close and rocks against her. 

_Oh._

It's heaven.

They drift like that for a long time, floating back to the window and the stars, foreheads pressed together, gripping each other's arms for balance, Monty hovering behind them, stroking their backs, their breasts, their hair.  Raven's muscles are taut and strong and Harper rides her thigh as hard as she can while Raven straddles hers.  It's a different kind of orgasm than Harper's ever felt before, it seems to start from some deeply-buried place inside her, and she feels herself grow increasingly frantic, fucking Raven's thigh as every movement sends them spinning and flying through the air, starlight glowing cool against their skin. 

Raven comes first, with a low, long moan of pleasure, a flush sweeping over her cheeks, leaving her dazed and glowing, as Monty moves in close behind Harper and they finish her together.  Her climax is sweet and heavy and leaves her body trembling as both Monty and Raven wrap her up in their arms, warm, dizzy, drowsy, floating.

She thinks she falls asleep, but she's not sure for how long.  When she opens her eyes again, Raven's holding her, chuckling quietly as Monty swims awkwardly around the room in an effort to gather up their boots and clothes.

"Hi," says Raven.  "Do you always pass out that fast after sex?"

"Don't worry," Monty calls at her from across the room, reaching for a stray boot, "it's a compliment."

"How much do you want me to just flip the switch right now, so all those boots crash down on his head?" Raven asks her, causing Harper to giggle.

"I heard that."

"Course you did. I said it out loud."

"Will you just get over here and maybe, like, _help?_ "

Raven kisses Harper and lets her go. "Not you," she says, "I'll go help him.  You're a guest."

Harper doesn't protest in the least, letting Raven zip over - somersaulting three times along the way - to help Monty gather up their stranded, floating socks and underwear.  Harper swims back over to the window and looks out at the darkness of space, feeling the cool play of starlight over her bare skin.  They can't see Earth from this side of the ship, so she can almost pretend it isn't there, that nothing exists out there except the glitter and twinkle of this endless field of diamonds spread out before her.

There weren't any windows in the McIntyres' quarters.  Outer-ring rooms were for the privileged.  Harper grew up in a little gray box, not that much bigger than the one they'd tossed her into after she was arrested.  Space had felt claustrophobic to her then; just another way she felt trapped.  Earth had meant freedom.  Soil and trees and air and solid ground.  She'd been so ready to hate it here, to feel trapped in a box again, but this time everything is different.  This time there are no guards, and no Skybox.  This time she's safe, and she's free.

This time, Harper can fly.


End file.
